


The lonely you and the lonely me

by ChocolatIceCream



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Adults, Drama & Romance, F/M, Female Furihata Kouki, Female Kuroko Tetsuya, First Kiss, First Time, Hurt/Comfort, Infidelity, Love Triangles, Love at First Sight, alternative universe, cinnamon roll kouki, english is not my first languaje
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-13
Updated: 2019-04-16
Packaged: 2019-07-11 22:58:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15982292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocolatIceCream/pseuds/ChocolatIceCream
Summary: In a huge, bustling city full of people in sacks with sensible hairstyles, she was; noisy and disheveled, with her curious brown eyes and bare feet, her purple t-shirts and impulsiveness when speaking. She was then, and still is, everything that he didn't expect, maybe that's why he loved her.A love story, the best of all, that happens through the seasons.





	1. Foreword

**Author's Note:**

> So I really need to practice, and this is a good way to do it. It's a little story that emerged after a rainy afternoon full of caffeine and wonderful songs. Is an AkaFuri with a female Kouki, Kuroko will also be a girl as a requirement of the story, I hope there is no problem.  
> English is not my first language. I'm sorry for the mistakes I may make throughout story and if you can help me to correct, I'll thank you.  
> Also, I will try to update at least once a week, and the chapters will be relatively short, I think lol.  
> See you soon!

When they told him that he was too young to understand the love that went beyond the caresses of his mother before going to sleep, a wall of ivy and apprehension hung over him. During his first years of life he grew up believing that this would be the case.

Not that he really cared.

His mind, already too preoccupied with the responsibility of being successful in his strict father's demands, was not sincerely concerned about romance. Even with the passing of the years the idea was discarded when his marriage was predetermined and he had to focus his attention on matters much more important than those.

_"However, love is an experience that you will have to live sooner or later with the passing of the seasons"_ his mother told him when he was fifteen years, when he firmly stated that there was no real problem in meeting the expectations of marriage that his father asked. _"It's a warm and wonderful sensation that is defoliated and discovers in a bright dawn in response to what you are willing to live."_ He must admit that, for the start of his adolescence and the end of his childhood the idea of living and feeling beyond the known never really excited him. Perceiving love, it seemed ridiculous, a vague and meaningless idea.

That indifference and lack of enthusiasm were the reasons why he could not determine the moment when he began to live love. Maybe it was with the caresses of his mother in his hair, while he rested on her lap and watched the roses that she looked after with great cared.

Love appeared in his life in such a diffuse way that he did not even suspect all its facets, even after having experienced them. So alien to the fictional romance was that much escaped his cunning, until he had penetrated his heart. Now, observing nervously towards the radiant sun, he dares to say that he discovered his tracks at the start of autumn. Which is ironic. Autumn was always the worst time of the year. He knew it with certainty, he knew it when his mother left home one day and never returned, and in the mural of memories all that remained were photographs and a bouquet of roses that she herself had cultivated.

He never confessed it to anyone, but he was always alert to any gust of wind that would indicate that everything would go wrong.

His father probably was too. The love for him, after all, had become the villain of the story.

Although time has belied the pains of undone love, they have always shared the same opinion: sometimes heartbreak hurts and sometimes pain is disguised as love, but it is something you cannot really avoid; being in love with a warm breeze and a powerful sun, he did not imagine that love would be so hard that autumn, but he knew it was inevitable, when she appeared in front of him like the sunlight that almost blinds him.


	2. Day 345 (Autumn)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A very important fact that I forgot to mention, the narrative in this story will be the same as in the movie "500 days of Summer", without order, I hope it is not very confusing.  
> Anyway, here the first chapter~~

Seijūrō massages his temples again and again as he tries not to think how unjust he has been, doesn’t even care about the wounds on his knuckles after hitting the wall, nor that his voice, that one that becomes farther and fainter every second between the corners of his head, makes him rethink everything and doubt his decisions, not for the first time.

Look at his emaciated expression in reflection of his shattered spirit in the mirror. He has never felt so shattered before.

Someone knocks on the door, that someone doesn’t even expect him to respond when he makes his way through the silence and the little light that comes in through the open curtains of the balcony. Is Shintarō. Shintarō Midorima, his most loyal friend, and lately also seems to be the voice in his head that acts as conscience and reminds him of his misfortune.

"What do you need?" He asks in a harsh and tired voice, perhaps with a too atypical and annoying tinkle. The scathing look he gives him through his reflection in the mirror in front of him is not much better.

But Shintarō doesn’t flinch at all, he gives a sigh, a tired sigh as he closes his eyes, then he stares at him.

"I'm here to go to the ceremony together and I meet one of your maids telling me that she has heard you wreck, and that Furihata was here before that, and she seemed to be crying when she left."

Seijūrō tries to pretend that he doesn’t mind listening to what Shintarō says. Inside he also tells himself that he must learn to accept his defeat, no matter how painful it may sound, there is no longer a battle to triumph, rather, there was never one to fight for.

"I've taken care of that matter, there's nothing else I can say about it, at least not her… or you" Seijūrō waits, wishes, _needs_ the harshness of his words to keep Shintaro from the shattered room in which he has been sheltering the last hours, and that he doesn't talk again about someone irrelevant as Kouki Furihata is.

But again Shintarō gives him a simply astonished look before walking around the place and picking up between each of his steps the revealing musical scores of his made tantrum. He sees him also lift the strings of the violin that were snatched awkwardly by his own hands; and look with resignation at the picture of the wall that now lies broken in the corner of the studio.

Seijūrō contains the air, thus recovering a bit of his dignity and bearing while accommodating the folds of his suit.

"And now that this issue is over, you and I should leave or we'll be late"

Something that Seijūrō keeps from saying is how grateful he really is with Shintarō for his interruption in the face of his emotional massacre, which had it not come to an end it could have had serious consequences. After all, his grief is so great that in his madness and lack of control it was likely that he had finished with everything at that moment.

Seijūrō walks through the room, toward the door, towards the destiny that was decided for him from his birth, but stops when he doesn't listen to the steps of his friend come after him. He turns to see him, indecipherably.

"I'm getting married" Shintarō tells him, and Seijūrō hopes that the surprise his words cause in him will not be noticed at all. "…with Kazunari"

The grace and irritation that that name causes him, however, he is not able to control it. "What are you saying? That doesn't even make sense, you are ..."

"Men, I know. And it is impossible to do it here, but it will be something symbolic, at least for now, and in any case that is the least of it, the important thing here is how much it will mean for us."

Seijūrō smiles smugly. "Do your parents know it? Are you aware of the consequences of your decision? Do you really believe that banal feelings as love are worth it? You have much to lose, Shintarō, have you seriously thought if someone as simple as Kazunari Takao deserves your sacrifices?”

Seijūrō may not notice it, at least not at first, but little by little he has lost control of the tone of his voice, of his own words. But Shintarō remains calm, arranges his glasses with a smile that seems sad and tired, before approaching the door and pass by Seijūrō, ready to leave.

"Someday, Akashi," he murmurs when he turns his back, "you will be able to comprehend that there are things worth a thousand times more than your position or surname. And maybe, when that day arrives, you will stop hurting innocent people with your foolish schemes."

Seijūrō stops dead in his tracks, and now it is he who gives a stunned look at nothingness. As if suddenly Shintaro had undressed and ridiculed him in front of a crowd. His refined ways have been replaced by almost fearful ones.

Shintarō, beyond any man, is his friend, his best friend, and suddenly he becomes a shadow; he's gone.

And Seijūrō...

Seijūrō is just a man, and suddenly it becomes a statue.

_No._

That's not right. Seijūrō Akashi isn't a statue.

He's just a man.

A man suffering under the heavy weight of a title he's unable to carry.


	3. Day 1 (autumn)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first meeting of a couple of lonely hearts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sooorry :C
> 
> It took me a long time to continue this story, and I am very sorry, but here I am and now we are going to move forward without delay!

"It was not love at first sight, it was rather familiarity.  
Something like: oh, hello, it's you. Game over."

_ You had me at hello, McFarlane. _

They meet for the first time facing each other in the autumn of their twenty-three years.

Seijūrō, with the responsibility that a surname like his carries, spends whole afternoons and some nights working behind a mahogany desk kept in a glass-walled office.

And she lives carelessly taking care of the flowers that adorn the small cafeteria that she serves in the city.

That day, one autumn day, Seijūrō decides to walk home before facing the responsibilities that also await him there.

Kyoto, at night, looks like a world apart. The vast majority of restaurants are closed at that time, and the humid night wind does not bode well. In the forecast they said it would rain, and Seijūrō, who is actually a man well prepared in all kinds of ways, has not taken much importance when leaving home.

So the only thing that protects him is his gray coat.

He should find a refuge, before the rain dropped without consideration.

He can see people shying away from the strong wind, just like him; some others laugh like fools as they run for some reason that Seijūrō does not understand. Is when he turns in a corner when he sees a warm light shining some steps in front of him.

He does not question his steps when he approaches.

Is a small place, with pots of flowers hanging from the roof outside and other more at the foot of the door, where there is also a small sign that reads: _¡Welcome! We all consider ourselves friends here._

Seijūrō enters and, if it were not for the tables with napkins and coffee pots on the other side of the counter, he might believe that he has entered a garden, because everything here seems to be frozen in an eternal spring, smells like hazelnut and there are vines and everything type of flowers on the walls.

There does not seem to be anyone nearby, so Seijūrō moves forward, soft steps, not caring at all what the owner of the place might think about breaking into the place at such hours of the night and when the closing sign was already turned. But in his defense the place is still lit and the door unlocked, so that the only thing he will offer will be an apology.

He hears footsteps coming behind the furniture that holds the coffee pots, and then she appears there in front of him.

The girl (of small body and porcelain skin) of vibrant brown eyes appears dancing with uncoordinated steps, all full of joy and emotion, and Seijūrō thinks that this is what attracts him first, or her bare feet; maybe it's her tangled hair and her bright brown eyes, those that shine even under the superficial illumination of the spotlights in the room. Or maybe everything together. But either way, as soon as she appears in front of him, Seijūrō cannot take his eyes off her.

She is surprised to see him, obviously, but contrary to what Seijūrō expects, she widens her smile immediately filling him with a strange kind of tranquility.

Seijūrō clears his throat and holds his briefcase tightly.

"Hi," she says, wiping her hands on the candy apron she wears over her denim shorts. "It's terribly cold outside, is not it? Do you want some tea? Why don't you take a seat and immediately I'll serve you a little, don't worry about the price, it's a gift, I was about to close and drink a little anyway."

She does not even give him time when she runs to somewhere behind the counter.

When she returns, with her hair tied this time in a decent ponytail, showing the freckles that are marked on the visible skin of her back and says in a soft voice a _"I'm back"_ that Seijūrō does not bother to answer, and she takes the audacity to sit next to him, Seijūrō, having her so close, says to himself that in her there is really nothing that makes her stand out, she is a pretty normal girl, except for the way her irises capture the light, and the cherry red of her lips.

For a long time, Seijūrō tries to ignore her presence; at least as much as her constant flitting from one side to the other and her constant chatter allow it; at least until he sees her smile ironically while holding in her hands what seems to be a wig of some American rock singer, those of the 60's. She seems to remember a kind of private joke. And it's a bit shocking for Seijūrō to realize how much he wants to know the reason for her sudden smile.

His cell phone vibrates in his pocket. With the girl, of whom he does not yet know her name, distracted in her thoughts, Seijūrō takes a moment to verify his messages, all from his father.

_Is there any justifiable reason for your tardiness? Tetsuya and her family are here, waiting._

Seijūrō sighs, returning the object to his pocket. Discover the girl looking in his direction dreamily, a little nervously.

"Everything is alright, Mr. Customer?" She smiles, leaning her elbow on the counter and turning her chin in the palm of her hand.

Seijūrō frowns, annoyed with the audacity of this stranger. "How much do I owe you?"

"Oh, but it has been a gift, because you has kept me company tonight, although if you decides return tomorrow during working hours I don't promise it will be."

Seijūrō realizes the silent little suggestion about returning after work hours, but pretends not to.

Nods. "I'll take it into account." He answers.

And maybe she's about to say something else, or maybe not, but Seijūrō does not have the opportunity to find out, because a boy with hair as black as coal enters the place and exclaims a "Kouki!" with a pretty English accent fake, and Seijūrō wonders why everyone takes the liberty to enter this place at such hours so casually.

The girl turns her eyes to him and greets him with a broad smile, much more comfortable, warm and intimate than the friendly but not remarkable smile she has given him before. The boy who ignores monumentally the presence of Seijūrō, approaches her and asks what she does and can help. Soon he sees him immerse himself in a conversation with her, almost as if they had forgotten his presence.

Seijūrō stands up when he finishes the last sip of his tea and leaves without saying anything, unable to understand the discomfort he suddenly feels in his chest at the thought of that noisy boy getting all the attention of the girl he does not even know. Because it's ridiculous. Too ridiculous. And Seijūrō has never acted in that way.


	4. Day 8 (autumn)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The denial of a stubborn man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to Purplepirates for your support, giant hugs!!

"Are you going to meet with an important client?"

Shintarō's voice is barely able to be heard in the nebula of his thoughts. Seijūrō directs his heterochromatic eyes with parsimony towards him. Shintarō looks at him over the papers that keep the report of the company's actions of the last month; his gaze is questioning but not insistent, Shintarō knows that he should never insist, Seijūrō will only say what he wants to say.

"No."

Even so, there is a bit of bewilderment in Shintarō's green eyes. No need for his friend to say anything, Seijūrō knows what the boy wants to ask. Sighs. "Why?" He asks, giving rise to any kind of comment that Shintarō wants to make.

"Because you have not stopped looking at the clock for a while. Are you going to meet with your fiancée? "

Seijūrō is gently recharged in the back of his chair. The softness of his face becomes scathing but makes a herculean effort to not be noticed.

It's absurd. Simply absurd. Seijūrō has never been the kind of person who is easily distracted from his duties, much less the kind of person who keeps thinking of someone as irrelevant as the girl in the cafeteria is…

He returned the next day, Seijūrō remembers, he did it at lunchtime, without blizzard forcing him. The place was partially full, but still the girl managed to look at him with surprise and smile with pleasure at seeing him enter. The flowers and the pictures on the wall looked much better with the sunlight filtering through the showcases, and her brown hair to glow in an idyllic way.

Seijūrō decided to take a seat at one of the tables on the corner, in a busy schedule like that, Seijūrō could barely see her fill the silences with musical hums, with kind words and delicate hands when she placed a cup of tea in front of him.

 (For some reason Seijūrō felt that he breathed for the first time in the day.)

She went back to her work without saying anything else. The noisy, black-haired boy was also there to help. Both maintained a perfect dynamic to avoid crowds.

They seemed to know everyone who entered the place, filling them with cordial greetings and sometimes personal questions but still not harassing. She did not return to the Seijūrō table (not that Seijūrō expected her to come back or anything). Anyway, she did not pay much attention, too focused on serving the orders.

But for some reason, Seijūrō stayed there until it was time to close, without being too aware of it until she approached him.

"Thanks for waiting," she said.

And Seijūrō held back the urge to respond that he was not waiting for her at all. Since he is not a person of impulses either.

He did not answer, but she did not seem to need an answer. She poured a little more tea for both and placed a plate of cookies on the table. Soon, very soon, Seijūrō found himself listening about the customers of the day.

Although the place itself is a coffee shop, Kouki (she introduces herself as Kouki Furihata) grows some flowers and keeps a small floral business there. She spoke to Seijūrō about the little old ladies who are going to buy seeds, of the high school kids who spend very early in the place to buy a rose or a bouquet of daisies for their _sweetheart_. Of the men in suits and hurried steps who buy a black coffee without sugar to be able to stand for the rest of the day. Or chatty mothers who only go for a few pieces of bread. It was curious to realize how she manages to find entertainment in such banal things. Seijūrō, on the other hand, does not take too much importance to his day to day, and did not hesitate to tell Kouki.

Only then she did remain silent. Partially avoiding looking him directly to the eyes.

(Not that he blame her, Seijūrō knows how intimidating he can be sometimes.)

"Why didn't I ever see you before?" She asked, after a few seconds. "I mean, I know most people who walk these streets, but I never saw you."

Seijūrō moved his gaze towards a bonsai, realizing that the girl did not really know him, as if she had lived the last years of her life inside a cave and his face, which has been published in magazines and transmitted in the television countless times, was for her the face of any other normal person.

"I do not work near here."

The confession came out of him before he had time to ponder, that sincerity was not planned, and for a second he thought it was worrying what she might think of that, but she just laughed once again raising her feet to the chair, and looking away from him with embarrassment.

"Here all kinds of people come in, all the time, they always stay and chat a bit, usually they’re always the same clients, so it seemed strange to me the first time I see you here; I had never seen someone like you before."

"Do you even know the owners of the other stores?" Seijūrō asks, evading Kouki's comment and her flushed cheeks.

"I'm friends with the owner of the books and records store, also with the guy from the candy store on the corner, and the guy who's been here before is Kazunari, he works at the convenience store half-time, and sometimes after work he comes to help."

"I see."

"You're an office man, aren't?" She asks mischievously. "I'm saying it because your suit looks too elegant, and the first time you came brought a briefcase with you."

"Something like that. Are you aware of the news?"

She does not seem to understand the reason for his early interest in that, but still responds. "The essential, I suppose, most of the time I'm just painting." Seijūrō expected that, as her clothes were sprinkled with various colors and her thin-toed hands move gracefully all the time. "Why?"

"Irrelevant."

"You aren’t a man of many words."

"It depends on the occasion."

"And when you go out with your friends?"

"I am not interested in having them in the first place."

"Is very sad."

Seijūrō began to tire of that conversation, but something told him that she would not leave the subject so easily. "My best friend is someone serious and able to develop their strengths in any field, we have a lot in common and we do not need to talk too much to have a good time."

With that, she seemed pleased. "I know someone like that, well, not really, we don’t talk much, but he's Kazunari's friend and he's been here two or three times. He seems like someone too serious, but if you push him enough he can even joke ..."

"I have to go." Seijūrō burst in and stood up to leave no doubt of his intentions.

She also stood up, nervous, almost stumbling over her own chair at the speed of her momentum. "Ah, um, w-why don’t you come back tomorrow?" She said, did not seem to have fully thought of her words because of the horrified way she looked at him. "I-If you want, I say, you do not have to-"

"I will think about it," he said and they looked into each other's eyes for the first time.

However, did not return, he does not plan to do so, and he tries to ignore the desire to walk towards the place and meet once again with her, because honestly has no reason to do. The first time was just a coincidence, the second curiosity, and now that curiosity has been satisfied there is nothing left to do.

"No." Seijūrō responds to Shintarō at last "And she and I are not officially engaged yet."

"Why does it seem to matter now?"

"What are you talking about?"

"You have never denied your engagement with Kuroko before."

"I did not." Seijūrō responds, maybe too fast. "I am not denying it. Do not twist my words."

Shintarō frowns, his gaze looks suspicious again, but he knows Seijūrō enough to know that he should not contradict his words, which are absolute, and he says nothing, something that pleases Seijūrō. Shintarō is probably the only person in the world who knows him in full, and perhaps he is guessing that something is not right for Seijūrō; however, he limits himself to resuming his reading after Seijūrō asks him to do.

While listening to Shintarō, Seijūrō tries to convince himself once again that he does not need to go back to Kouki Furihata's cafeteria. There are no reasons to do. She's a simple girl, after all.


	5. Day 25 (autumn)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The bad idea of a man without reason.

After a week it starts to be annoying how much Seijūrō thinks about the girl in the cafeteria, and, for the second week, it has become a headache, especially since Seijūrō has only spoken with her what, once? Two, maybe. And especially because "spoken", Seijūrō means that he only listened to her chatter about the customers she had during the day, while Seijūrō drank the delicious green tea that she served that day. The point is that, Seijūrō really does not know this girl at all, not really. Therefore there is no justification for the countless times when Seijūrō finds his thoughts drifting to Kouki. Definitely not enough to justify the way Seijūrō gets lost in the memory of her smile while in front of him there are a thousand contracts to review and sign, or those days when he stays late at the office and watches from his window the sky dotted with stars and think of the freckles he knows she has; much less justify those mornings where he wakes up, panting and sweaty, with images of Kouki naked beneath him, cheeks flushed and lips parted, staring at him dreamily from under her curved lashes.

And he thinks of her as a whim. One of some. One of those who knows will not leave him alone until he manages to fulfill it.

And he decides it. There, as he lies in his bed, still flushed and breathing anxiously, totally willing to please that unhealthy and curious part that is attracted to someone who, most of the time, is more interested in smiling at a pair of orchids, than to him. Think it's been a while since he were attracted to someone, and that maybe it will not be such a bad idea. Also think that it will be fun, and that it will not be difficult at all. Not for him. Because, if there's something Seijūrō Akashi knows for sure, it is the fact that, ever since childhood, everything he desires shall be given to him.


End file.
